


Pinching Pennies

by ValidEmail (orphan_account)



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: :(, Alternative Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Gay, Multi, Out of Character, Relationship Problems, alternative universe - completely different storyline, cracky??, job switch??, poor lesbians, really out of character, tennis matches, usage of the insults "jizzcock" and "fucktrumpet"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-08 18:51:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12870825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ValidEmail
Summary: Somewhere in the depths of modern New York City, there resides two gay men who play tennis, and their baseball-loving son. Compiled together with their struggling lesbian neighbors, one a physiciatrist, the other a lawyer, and their surrogate, along with her doctor-without-a-degree husband, the family goes through an insurmountable amount of struggles within the short timespan of three days. Alternatively, I asked my friend what he thought Falsettos was about, and this is basically how he replied.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! if you're wondering where the band au, that's now residing in the void until i decide to bring it back out better-written with an actual plot . i was in a slump for awhile and that was just kinda where i had been trying out different ideas . also, this story is something i've been working on for a while . i might post a new chapter every week , but it depends when i'll finish the other two chapters . enjoy !! :))

Whizzer and Marvin met when the sun was high in the sky, summer air blowing around the tennis courts as players in tight outfits leapt around to ricochet balls against rackets. Whizzer Brown was an avid tennis player, going so far as to dedicate an outfit to the sport. Cordelia Stevens, his bubbly best friend who was still undecided in her major even if they were about two years in college, went with him sometimes, but usually it was just Whizzer, and his unnamed opponent.

 

“Did you fish those clothes from a fucking trash can, or what?” Whizzer sneered one midday afternoon, when his Photography class had been canceled because his teacher had been caught with weed, and he had decided to spend his free time lounging around the tennis courts. The man he had been calling out towards, saggy and tired-looking, twisted his head around to allow Whizzer to get a full lookover.

 

His eyes were sunken in from long nights, the bags under his eyes practically going down to the bottom of his chin. His hair was scraggy, the storm of curls tumbling down the sides of his face, almost as if someone had taken a pile of loose fur from a shedding dog, messily spread glue onto this man’s head, and then pressed the dog hair onto it.

 

His clothes were just as much of a mess as he was, a loose brown shirt scrunching up at the bottom, which led Whizzer to notice his rainbow shorts, ones that could look good, if they were worn  by literally anyone else. He had a red sweatband clinging to his wrist, the only thing that looked like it fit correctly. He flipped Whizzer off, and cracked open the gate to the tennis court calmly. As he strolled past Whizzer’s bench to situate himself on the tennis court, the taller could distantly hear him humming some Elton John song or another.   


He bent down into position, almost as if he was attempting to impersonate a passionate tennis player - Whizzer taking deep offense to that even if it wasn’t meant to - and swung his racket around. After a moment, he straightened back up, a hunch still to his tired shoulders, and he spun to face Whizzer once more.

 

“Aren’t you gonna play me?” The man gestured with his racket to the other side of the court. Whizzer lolled his head to the side, basking in the sun like the cold-blooded creature he was.

 

“You wouldn’t even last five seconds against me,” Whizzer dared him, teeth shining in the heated Chicago sun. “You look like you auditioned for Roger Davis, but you didn’t get it because you looked too much like a shrunken cat. One of those hairless ones.” The man didn’t seem bothered by the teasing, instead twisted around his racket, smiling to himself as he went.

 

“ _Your eyes,”_ He sang clearly, continuing to perform tricks with the racket as he did so. Whizzer shut his mouth while his heavenly voice erupted from such a jumble of a person. _“As we said our goodbyes...”_

 

_“Can’t get them out of my mind,”_ Whizzer joined in precariously, removing himself from the bench. The man grinned toothily, and Whizzer suddenly realized the appeal that his opponent held. _“And I find I can’t hide…”_

 

_“From your eyes,”_ They crooned together, now about five feet apart, both smiling like idiots. They stood like that for a few moments, before Whizzer recollected himself, and stepped back, a frown coming onto his face like a storm after a sunny day.

 

“Anyway, uh, let’s play,” He coughed, the stranger still simpering at him, the happiness from Whizzer agreeing to play with him practically radiating off of his skin. Whizzer spun his racket, and got into position, ready to blast this suddenly intriguing shell of a man into the sun. The man rocketed the tennis ball in Whizzer’s direction, and their three-hour long game began.

 

After sweating through his shirt and realizing that underneath the bags, the stranger was an excellent tennis player, Whizzer stopped them for a moment to chug down half of his water bottle. The shorter bounced over, water bottle also clutched in his hand, and gestured down to Whizzer’s white sweatband.

 

“What’s your name?” He asked, Whizzer glancing up from his water bottle to brush his sweaty hair out of his face, eyeing the stranger beside him. Now, since he had woken up and started playing, seemed more handsome than he had before.

 

“Whizzer Brown,” Whizzer told him, swishing around his water bottle. Strangely, his companion’s eyes didn’t widen or look suspicious at the mention of his name. “What about you?” He bounced back on his heels.

 

“Marvin Gershwin,” He stuck out his hand firmly. “Pleasure to meet you.” Whizzer pinked, then silently blamed it on the fact that he was exhausted from the intense tennis playing, and shook Marvin’s hand. Their connected fingers fell to the middle of their tight space, and Whizzer grinned the same stupid grin he had when they were singing.

 

_“The ones that took me by surprise,”_ Marvin picked up the song from where they had left it off. Whizzer tentatively took his index finger out to tilt up his companion’s chin. “ _The night you came into my life.”_

 

_“Where there's moonlight I see your eyes,”_ Whizzer replied in kind, the smile still firmly attached to his face. They stood there for a second like before, watching each other carefully, before Marvin cleared his throat.

 

“This might be sudden,” He began, stepping back to fiddle around with his tennis racket. “But do you want to go grab a coffee with me? My best friend works at the campus one, so we can get a pretty nice discount there.” Whizzer eyed him carefully, the smile on his face widening as he nodded. The two college students then raced from the court, hands connected as they had been before. Whizzer predicted they’d last about two months, and he’d be forced to sob into Cordelia’s shoulder while they watched the Notebook in the pathetic way that he usually did.

 

**THE GERSHWIN APARTMENT**

 

Cordelia DuBois smacked her hands onto the dining room table in front of her furiously, causing Whizzer, who was beside her, to jump in surprise. Reaching up a hand to comb through her overgrown blond curls, the hair pooling around her chest, she let out a long sigh at the documents presented in front of her. He rested a hand on her shoulder calmly, forcing her to look away from her work in the direction of her best friend.

 

His cheeks and body in general were fuller than it had been twelve years before, when they were in college. His tie-dye shirt was tucked into the top of his short jeans, a calmed aura to him while his hair flopped around, no longer soaked in hair spray like it had been that day on the tennis court. He was carelessly adorning his feet with green Converse, ones that were practically untied. For a moment, she was struck by how much he had changed in the years they’d known one another.

 

“Wanna take a break? I baked oatmeal cookies last night,” Whizzer told her earnestly, a toothy grin spreading onto his face. Cordelia waved him off, Whizzer frowning as she did so, and one spindly hand reached down to toy with the red sweatband around his wrist. She noticed he only did so when he was nervous about something, though luckily she would only really have to start worrying if he had begun to fiddle with his wedding ring.

 

“I have to figure this out. This little fucker shouldn’t be allowed to run around without a degree,” Cordelia hissed, reaching down and flipping through certain scribbled papers she had worked on the night before. Whizzer peered over her shoulder curiously, watching her nails dash around the crumbled pages.

 

“Mendel’s not doing any harm,” He pursed his lips in defense of his short friend, Cordelia whipping her head dangerously in his direction. He paled. “Yet. I was going to add on a yet, Delia, cool your jets.”

 

“Stop using dad language, you’re becoming too much of an actual father,” Cordelia tutted, tucking a stray strand of wispy blonde hair behind her ear. “Only Marvin is allowed to say “cool your jets,” and even then it’s a stretch.” Whizzer furrowed his eyebrows.

 

“Just because I’m not the biological dad does not mean I’m any less a father to Jason,” He huffed out annoyedly, Cordelia rolling her eyes as she went back to her work. He folded his arms across his chest. “I introduced him to baseball.”

 

“It was a joke, Whizzer,” She snapped, before smirking discreetly down at the flutter of papers before her. “Cool your jets.” Whizzer glared hotly, the expression that would usually make Marvin run about five miles away in any direction.

 

“Ha, ha, ha,” He laughed fakely, walking into the kitchen slowly. “Very funny. I’m laughing my ass off, Delia. You should have become a comedian.” Cordelia sighed, and turned back to her work, searching for the document of Mendel’s college history. After a moment, she retracted from her best friend’s dining room table, since that’s where they were housing the lawsuit currently, and strolled into the kitchen behind Whizzer.

 

He was leaning against one of the granite counters, a soft smile spreading onto his face as he picked up the telephone receiver from the landline the Gershwins’ still kept in their kitchen. Twisting the cord around one of his tan fingers, he leant into the phone, Cordelia watching him from the doorway.

 

“Hi, baby,” Whizzer greeted with a giggle, his years of age washing away at the sound of what Cordelia assumed was Marvin’s voice. His husband’s presence usually did that to him. “I’m just discussing the plans with Delia.” His beaming expression faltered just slightly at Marvin’s muffled response, but his growing amount of wrinkles had disappeared back into the flawless skin he had once held, dimples appearing out of the cave they usually cowered in.

 

“I can’t wait,” Whizzer nuzzled the phone as though it were actually Marvin and not just Marvin speaking to him. “See you in five. Love you. Bye.” He hung the phone back onto the rack after that short phone call, before sighing lovingly in the direction of the landline. Cordelia stepped up onto the tiled flooring of the kitchen, and perched herself on one of the bar stools resting by the kitchen island.

 

“What was that about?” Cordelia asked, hair bouncing as she knelt her head forwards. Whizzer untangled his fingers from the phone cord, and turned back to his best friend. The dazed expression on his face was already melting off, and she found herself sad to see it go.

 

“Marv’s coming back with Jason in about five minutes. They were at his baseball practice,” Whizzer explained, opening one of the cabinets close to him to grab a coffee mug. Cordelia didn’t mention the fact that Whizzer had already told her that when she had first arrived. “You might want to head back over to Charlotte soon. No doubt she’ll be getting back from work.” He grinned giddly at her then, and wiggled his eyebrows, his college self reappearing for just a moment before he fell back into his soft self.

 

Cordelia blushed despite the fact that she and Charlotte had not had sex since the lawsuit against Mendel began. The blond had been too wrapped up in work to really have a decent conversation with her wife. Toying a pen lying on top of a grocery list, she didn’t look up as her best friend started to prepare tea for himself and his arriving husband. Contemplating whether or not to go back to her wife or to stay to work a while longer, she glanced back towards the living room, and her eyes caught a large photo of the entire family hanging in a frame above one of the bookcases.

 

They were surrounding Jason as he sat, birthday hat tilted on his unruly curls while he was staring excitedly at the cake in front of him. It was at his sixth grade birthday party, Cordelia remembering the moment like it was yesterday. Whizzer had set up the camera happily, a new Canon one Marvin had given him for their anniversary. Trina was leaning onto Mendel, who had an arm wrapped around her waist. One of her hands was resting on Jason’s shoulder. Whizzer was beside her, right behind Jason, and his hand was on top of Marvin’s, who’s hand was on Jason’s other shoulder. Marvin wasn’t even looking at the camera, instead he was peering up at his husband, a content smile on his face as Whizzer grinned his usual grin at the camera. Charlotte was mid-laugh, bending backwards as Cordelia snickered beside her, the duo too wrapped up in one another to be paying attention to when the camera was going off.

 

She stood up from the barstool, and tucked the pen into her pocket, Whizzer not noticing her taking it along with her. She strolled back into the dining room, and began to tuck all of her messy papers back into the large binder that they kept the information in, before placing it onto a shelf beside her.

 

“I’m leaving now, Whizzer,” She called out as she neared the front door of the apartment. Just then, it burst open, revealing Marvin and Jason, deep in a conversation about Magnus Carlsen. She jumped back in surprise, but the two boys paid her no attention, and brushed past Cordelia. She peered at them disappearing behind the kitchen doorway, and lingered long enough to hear Whizzer’s delighted cry at the sight of his husband and son. The chatter of the reuniting trio drifted from the kitchen, finally, and with a smile Cordelia departed from her neighbor’s apartment.

 

“How was the baseball practice? Is my star still hitting every ball?” Whizzer teased lovingly, stepping out from the clogged up kitchen area to engulf his son in a hug. Jason buried his face into Whizzer’s chest, smiling at the soft fabric that made up the tie-dye shirt.

 

“Jason actually hit a double today,” Marvin told his husband, setting his briefcase down on the kitchen table. Whizzer glanced up, eyes full of affection from his son. Seeing his husband, though, caused his entire face to light up out of utter love, a smile spreading onto his face as though he was seeing Marvin for the first time.

 

“Don’t set your briefcase down on the table, sweetheart,” He chided breathlessly, Jason grinning happily as his dad drifted towards his papa, the two kissing quickly due to the fact that they were in front of their son. Whizzer pulled back after a few seconds, Marvin’s hands having drifted towards his cheeks. He stepped towards Jason again, the dazed smile still on his face.

 

“You hit a double, eh? You’ll be as good as a professional before you know it,” Whizzer reached out and ruffled Jason’s hair, who ducked, but giggled at his father. Marvin squinted his eyes, smirking at the taller man, who went back into the kitchen. “I’ve been working with Cordelia since I got home. Finally got her to go back to Charlotte, though.” He set a pot of water on the stove, before turning it on. The bubbling noises began to come from it, and Jason tucked his ten year old head over the counter to peer up at it. Marvin shucked off his coat, hanging it up in the nearby coat closet. There was a hissing noise from the boiling water Whizzer had been preparing for tea, and the tall man removed the water swiftly to move onto the next step of preparing tea.

 

“We should have them over for dinner soon,” He mused, Whizzer reaching over and grabbing his apron from the hanger by the fridge after fiddling with tea bags for a moment. He tied it around his back, and presented the brightly rainbow apron to his husband and son. Jason chuckled, rolling his eyes at his flamboyant father, before dashing over and grabbing his own apron (Which was embezzled by various baseball fashion accessories.)

 

“Ready to make your favorite?” Whizzer prompted his son, who bounced up beside him, gasping out of utter joy.

 

“Mac and cheese?” He asked in wonder. Whizzer glanced up towards his husband, an amused grimace coming onto his features. Marvin was just staring at him, though, the same effect he had on Whizzer coming over him. His wrinkles, which were more than Whizzer’s, had melted away, leaving just a dimpled smile of utter love to be blasted towards his lover. Whizzer seemed out of breath at that look, and he whipped his head back down to his awaiting son, heart practically bursting from his apron.

 

“Well, I was going to start on my famous Whiz’s Boiled Vegetable Surprise,” With this, he raised his hands for emphasis. Jason wrinkled his nose, and Whizzer’s overly excited smile transformed back into a softer version of what his grin had been in college, much like the rest of his personality. “But I guess we can make mac and cheese. Since you hit a double, and all.” Jason squealed, and ducked down into the cabinet beside the sink to begin digging for a wooden spoon. Whizzer turned back towards his husband, the silly little smile still on his face, and Marvin returned it, an echo of buried worries hidden beneath his eyes. Whizzer promised himself he’d investigate later, though now he just had to focus on preventing Jason from touching the flames currently coming from the stove.

 

***** ***** *****

 

Marvin was sitting on the edge of their bed, the sun outside completely disappeared beneath the New York City skyline, and had his tie halfway loosened around his neck when he felt Whizzer’s hands slid over his shoulders. He sd, though rather exasperatedly, as his husband, nuzzled into the space that his neck and his chin connected, Whizzer’s delicate brown hair brushing up against his cheek.

 

“If you want something, you’ll have to voice it aloud,” Marvin joked, Whizzer’s hands stopping at his upper arms. He began to rub them, Marvin leaning into his partner’s chest due to the sudden wave of exhaustion that hit him. It was a Friday night, and both had been working 9-5 since the end of Sunday. A strange silence rang through the apartment, Jason already nestled in bed, and it was queer due to the fact that New York City was usually so loud. For that one moment, though, Marvin couldn’t remember anything but the fact that the candle on the dresser smelled of Forget-Me-Nots, and Whizzer was intoxicatingly tugging him closer. After what felt like a century, Marvin drowning in the drowsiness of it all, Whizzer yanked backwards from him, and rested back onto his knees.

 

“I’m worried about the lesbians,” He confessed, Marvin blinking out of his dazed state to tiit his head back to his husband. His curls fell down as he did so, and Whizzer let out a small giggle despite the serious aura he had taken on at how much Marvin’s haircut really resembled a lion’s mane.

 

“Come on, Whiz, this is like our one night to have sex,” Marvin complained, flopping onto his back, the bed wiggling at the sudden movement. “You want to spend it worrying about our _neighbor’s sex lives?_ ” Whizzer pouted, and stood from the bed, walking over to Marvin’s legs.

 

“I’m serious!” He told his husband, grimacing at the other’s Birkenstocks. Shaking his head, he leaned down and unbuckled them, setting them on the rack beside their dresser. “Delia is way too wrapped up in her work, honestly. They both seem pretty tensed out by the current situation.” Marvin just flopped his legs onto the side of the bed, not bothering to move as Whizzer transitioned over to their adjoining master bathroom to get ready for bed.

 

“It was Cordelia’s idea to start this bullshit lawsuit in the first place,” Marvin’s muffled voice came from the bedroom, Whizzer beginning to floss his teeth. He paused, and tilted his head back towards his husband, who added: “Though I do hate Mendel. With a burning passion, honestly.”

 

“Don’t start to blame it all on Delia, it’s not just her fault,” Whizzer told him, the floss making him sound choked up. Marvin lifted his head from the comforter, rolling his eyes visibly in the dimmed bathroom mirror that stretched across the entire wall.

 

“I don’t know why I expected you to say anything different,” Marvin grumbled, his neck almost completely disappearing due to the fact that his chin was pulled so far down to the tip of his chest in order to stare at Whizzer as he stretched his tie dye shirt from his chest and dropped it onto the bathroom floor, pale skin reflecting the street lights outside their heavy curtains.

 

“Of course I have to defend my best friend!” Whizzer snapped, tone growing more irritated the more this conversation went on. “Just you must defend yours. It’s the number one rule of being best friends with someone. Rule number two is sharing your gum, even if it’s your last piece.”

 

“You never share your last pieces with me,” Marvin muttered, mostly to himself, but Whizzer’s head snapped up dangerously from his jean buckling all the same. His husband dropped his head back onto the comforter, and after a moment, Whizzer returned to him, having already done his face routine before clambering out of his painting clothes. He had been working on repainting a part of the photography studio.

 

“That’s because you’re best friend, but also my husband,” Whizzer told him, a smile cracking onto his face, the irritation from before flooding from his shoulders. He patted Marvin’s stomach as he passed, and his lover sat back up with a grunt to get undressed. Whizzer crawled underneath the comforter, resting his head on the pillow beneath his sprawled out hair. “And husbands have to buy their own gum.”

 

Marvin hung his tie on one of the racks of the dresser, then tugged off his shirt. His chest was not like how it used to be, due to his age, but Whizzer couldn’t say he minded the extra pudge Marvin had lining his stomach. Marvin hung his head, working on his belt, before gazing back up at his husband, who was wearing the same funny smile from dinner that night.

 

“What are you laughing about?” Marvin raised an eyebrow, chuckling in the direction of the thirty-five year old who was currently buried underneath the covers. He slid his pants off, Whizzer’s eyes seemingly sparkling in the dim lighting of the bedroom. He crawled in beside his husband, who just picked up his head from the pillow, leaning forwards as if anticipating something.

 

“I’m not laughing at anything,” Whizzer promised him, smile growing out of amusement. “I’m just smiling at you. Can’t you accept that I love you, and that people who love you will smile at you occasionally?” Marvin chuckled, and leaned down, pressing their lips together swiftly for a moment, before he tugged away. Curling down into the bedsheets beside his husband, he reached over to his bedside table, and turned out the only light still on in the apartment besides Jason’s nightlight.

 

The bedroom feel both dark, and silent, only the noises of muffled noise from New York City echoing outside their windows. Whizzer twisted his body towards Marvin’s, and wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist. Marvin, smiling into his pillow, angled himself to be the little spoon, then shut his eyes against the pillow.

 

_“Ah, why are your feet so cold? Did you stick them in ice or something?”_

 

**THE DUBOIS APARTMENT** **  
  
**

Whizzer Brown arrived on command of Charlotte to a seemingly empty apartment. He stepped in, Converse bouncing against the cold flooring, and flicked on the lightswitch beside him. Instantly, the quaint apartment flooded with light, and his eyes were instantly drawn to the collage of Polaroids along the kitchen wall. There was one from back in 2001, he and Cordelia squished together drunkenly, their eyes practically closed due to the ruddy flash of the camera.

 

_“Don’t blink, Whiz, you’ll ruin the shot,” Cordelia hissed through her clenched teeth, holding up her drink proudly to the camera. Whizzer widened his eyes comically as a joke, hand beginning to shake as it usually did. The flash went off, and he blinked rapidly in defense. She ripped the camera from his hands, much more forcefully than he would have expected, but after all, she was drunk, and the two best friends watched as the picture developed in front of their eyes._

 

_“Guess my fucktrumpet of a mother and my jizzcock of a father aren’t useless after all,” Cordelia joked in amazement, Whizzer taking the picture out gingerly and staring at it. “This is the best gift, second to my birth.”_

 

_“Shut your mouth for a second, please,” Whizzer breathed, marveling at the instant picture, before showing it to her. “We are going to have so much fun with this thing, I promise you.”_

 

He snorted, the wall showing that his statement had been much more truthful than the two drunken college-age kids could have expected. There was another of Marvin, simply staring at Whizzer as he chatted with his mother, a loving expression on his face. Whizzer reached up, and pulled down the top of the picture of Trina at her thirtieth birthday party down to read the scribbled Sharpie on the bottom of the polaroid. _“New Years Eve, 2004.”_ He smiled, and chuckled in disbelief.

 

_“Marvin, you alright?” Cordelia questioned in slight worry, eyebrows furrowing at her scruffled friend, who whipped his head away from his boyfriend to turn to the blond girl. He seemed on edge, more on edge than Marvin usually was. “What’s up? Why are you staring at Whizzer like that?” He wiped his sweaty palms on his skinny jeans, and switching which hand would hold his cup of beer, glanced back at his boyfriend out of nervousness before twisting back to Cordelia._

 

_“I think I’m gonna propose to him tonight,” Marvin confessed, Cordelia’s eyes widening in shock and happiness. She grabbed onto one of his shoulders, Marvin’s eyes darting down to her hand before back up to her face._

 

_“Marvin, that’s amazing!” Cordelia cheered, a wide grin appearing on her face as she thought of the moment more and more. “Although I think Whizzer would have wanted you to do it somewhere in the Greek countryside.”_

 

_“I’ve been carrying the engagement ring around in my pocket a week after we met,” Marvin confessed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. Suddenly the room felt even hotter than it had before, and it was snowing outside the small New York City apartment. “I-I’m just so nervous. Even if I know he’ll say yes.” Cordelia smiled at him, and patted his shoulder._

 

_“Just be yourself,” Cordelia told him. “I know most of the time I’m the one to be frank and rude, but seriously, that’s the thing he loves the most.” After a moment, she chugged down the wine currently resting in her coffee mug, and retracted her hand from his shoulder._

 

_“The moment’s over, Marvin,” Cordelia told him honestly, clambering from the couch he was sitting on. “I’m gonna leave now.” Marvin waved her goodbye, but returned his gaze to Whizzer, just as intense as before. Whizzer’s bubbly laugh erupted out, and Marvin smiled, a little less worried than he had been seconds before._

 

Whizzer smoothed out the crease he had accidentally put in the photo of Trina, and stepped back. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he peered around the open doorway into the living room, and saw Charlotte sitting there primly on the leather sofa, reading glasses on as she scanned a paper. Hearing his footsteps, she glanced up, and gestured to the couch beside her.

 

“Sit down, I invited you here for a reason,” She ordered him, Whizzer shooting his friend a confused expression, before following her instructions and placing himself on the couch to the right of Charlotte. She took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for something, and turned towards him with the most solemn expression he had ever seen her wear. Instantly, his skin turned cold.

 

“What is it? Am I gonna die?” Whizzer asked, his eyes widening in fear. He leaned forwards in the seat, pressing his hands against his knees. “Did you and Marvin talk to my doctor without telling me?”

 

“Whizzer Brown, are you in love with Cordelia?” Charlotte rushed out, interrupting his trainwreck of thoughts before they could derail anymore than they already had. He blinked in surprise, and resituated himself on the couch, a confused expression coming onto his face.

 

“Charlotte, you do understand that I am gay with a capital G, right?” Whizzer laughed, though there was a nervous tick to it. Was Charlotte going insane? Is that why all the lights had been off?

 

“Then why does she spend so much time with you?” At the end of her question, her voice began to waver, and she clenched the paper in her lap tighter. Whizzer’s face softened, and he reached out a hand to rub his friend’s arm sympathetically.

 

“Charlotte, you know that she’s really focused on this lawsuit right now. I’m not saying I agree with that, or her decision to ignore everything else in her life besides this case, but you know Delia. She won’t stop at something until she gets it,” Whizzer told her honestly, a small smile coming onto his face. “That’s how she won over you.”

 

“I-I just don’t get it, Whizzer,” Charlotte buried her face in her shaking hands, Whizzer gently reaching over to remove the paper from her lap. “Why does she always choose her work over me? Even when she was working at that bakery to work off her student tuition, she’d pick baking instead of going on a date with me. Am I that unlovable?” Whizzer’s eyes widened in horror, and he stood, hands moving to rest on both of her shoulders while he placed himself in front of her firmly.

 

“Charlotte, listen to me,” He yanked her hands off her face with her shoulders, her tear-stained face popping up to stare at him. He faltered for a moment at that face, of pure anguish, and realized that he had no way to excuse Cordelia’s work-obsessed behavior. “She loves you. I know she loves you. You know she loves you. She’s just distracted right now. She’s always distracted. That’s who Delia is. But she loves you. She wouldn’t have married you if she didn’t love you.” Charlotte stood to face him then, shrugging off his hands.

 

“Sure she wouldn’t have married me,” Charlotte grumbled, brushing past him. Whizzer watched her, annoyance flooding into his features due to his obvious short temper. Charlotte usually tried to excuse her bitterness for anger. “Cordelia does a lot of things she regrets later on. She regrets not pursuing her dreams of going to culinary school, she regrets caving into her parents’ wishes of her becoming a lawyer, and she regrets moving to New York City in the first place. Sooner or later, she’ll realize...she regrets me.” Charlotte turned away from her friend, back completely towards him as she stopped towards the entryway of the kitchen, where Whizzer had been standing moments before.

 

“It was stupid of me to ask if you were in love with Cordelia, but this whole time she’s been cracking down on this lawsuit we’ve barely interacted, meanwhile she’s spent hours over at your apartment, and I was scrambling for an explanation. I just,” She curled up in on herself, Whizzer observing in fright at the breaking thirty-six year old woman in front of him. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back, and turned around to face her neighbor again, the tears returning as the anger faded from her body. “I just can’t remember the last time she looked at me and I saw only love in her eyes.” Whizzer stepped towards her cautiously, as Charlotte continued to ramble on.

 

“When we got married, we were so young compared to now, and I had just graduated, and we had only known each other for five fucking months. What if it was a mistake, Whizzer? What if we’re not meant to be, and she’s just pulling away because she knows this already? I’m so close to my forties, I can’t be figuring myself out right now-” She cut herself off swiftly as Whizzer inclosed her in a tight hug. Charlotte sniffled, and then buried her face into his shoulder, barely reaching it due to his height. Her muffled sobs rang out through the almost empty apartment, Whizzer rubbing calming circles into his back as he attempted to think of ways to make her feel better about the current situation.

 

“Just let it out, Charlotte, just let it out,” He told her, glancing towards the door in worry. How long would it take Marvin to drive back from his work to quell his best friend’s nerves? Usually, the four stuck to their designated pairings. He didn’t really understand how to help Charlotte.

 

“You realize this too, right? She’s been pulling away this whole time. She doesn’t even sleep in the same bed as me anymore,” Charlotte admitted, wiping her nose with the back of her maroon sweater. Whizzer distantly remembered getting that for her on her thirtieth birthday. “She keeps giving me excuses, but they all blend together, and I don’t know how much longer this can go on.”

 

“I’ll talk to her,” Whizzer offered firmly. Charlotte stared at him with such hopefulness he crumbled just slightly, out of pity and worry for his friends’ relationship. “She’ll listen to me. If I could convince her to stop drinking so much at the peak of her college life, then I can convince her to care about other things in her life besides her work.” Charlotte grabbed at his sleeve, a hopeful smile beginning to spread across her rather pretty features. His heart pained at the fact that she still looked so young, even though she was in her late thirties. There were still tear stains visible in the lights he had flickered on when first entering the apartment.

 

“Thank you, Whizzer,” Charlotte gushed, eyes sparkling with newly ignited hope. “Thank you, really. She has to listen to her best friend.” Whizzer gave her a feeble smile, spirits dampened by the conversation. He let go over her then, and gestured to the door.

 

“Would you like me to go so that you can…” He trailed off, implication clear. Charlotte wiped at her eyes once more, and nodded. She gave him one upturned expression more, before disappearing back into the rest of the apartment. He watched her leave, and turned back to the polaroid collage on the wall. The sight of that now just made him furrow his eyebrows, deepen his worry, and speed his pace back towards his apartment. Stepping out into the bright hallway between the two apartments, he flicked off the lights of the living room for Charlotte. Instantly, the front of the apartment fell into steady darkness, the silence deafening. Resisting the urge to run back inside and promise Charlotte that it would be alright, that everything would be alright, since he knew deep in his soul that wouldn’t be the case, he instead rested a hand on the doorknob - and closed the apartment door, leaving both struggling adults to only their lonely thoughts for company.

 

**END OF ACT ONE**


	2. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// mention of miscarriage/unable to have children??  
> just tread lightly my dudes i love you

**TENNIS COURT (FLASHBACK)**

 

For a college student struggling to get to classes on time, pay off student loans, and call his mother every Friday, Marvin Gershwin sure looked for ways to get away from his roommate an awful lot. He would usually be found studying desperately in the campus library, or strolling around in search of a cute dog to pet. Now, though, he was spending more and more time on the tennis courts, accompanied by his new boyfriend. 

 

“Didn’t think you’d be coming, you’re so late,” Whizzer greeted him on the tennis courts, swinging his racket around, a big grin on his face. Marvin stepped close to him, and kissed him in greeting. Whizzer’s tensed, joking shoulders loosened. The racket clattered to the ground. Whizzer’s arms wrapped themselves around Marvin’s neck, tugging him close as the shorter’s hand wove around his companion’s hips. Pulling back, lips full already, Whizzer reached up a finger to brush against Marvin’s lips, the grin returning to his face devilishly as Marvin let out a long sigh. 

 

“Whiz…” Marvin mumbled out, tilting his head backwards. “Let’s just forget about the game and go back to your dorm.” Whizzer shook his head, and removed himself from Marvin’s tight grip on his hips, stepping backwards.

 

“We agreed to play, so we’re gonna play,” He told him, twisting around to pick up his racket from where it had cluttered to the floor. “Besides, my roommate, you know, Cordelia, is studying because she’s decided she wants to get into law school.” He shrugged nonchalantly, Marvin narrowing his eyes in on Whizzer’s backside. 

 

“Just because you don’t want to show me you’re a lo-ser doesn’t mean I’m not gonna force you to play with me!” Whizzer spoke in a sing-song like voice, prancing around the court. “Now get over to the other side of the net and fucking fight me. You’re the history buff, after all. Time for you to go all Civil War or some shit on my ass.” Marvin upturned his lips into a sneer, before marching over to the other side of the net to follow his boyfriend’s wishes.  _ Trust me, there are significant things I’d like to do with your ass. _

 

“Bitch,” Marvin muttered underneath his breath, barely loud enough for Whizzer to hear. The taller raised a quizzical eyebrow, and knelt down to shuffle through his bag, before standing up triumphantly with a tennis ball. He cast it into the air, and the game began. 

 

In the end, Whizzer won. He usually did when they’d play. Marvin would either get blinded by the sun, or by Whizzer’s looks, or the fact that he had an online test the next day at eight a.m. sharp. His boyfriend fanned himself, bouncing around on the back of his heels as he shifted around his white shirt. Though it was tight around his chest, the sweat was leaking through the collar and the pits. Marvin was still looking as trashy as he had been the other times they’d play, orange shirt hanging over his rainbow shorts, shaggy hair colliding with his eye line. He attempted to push back his curls, and as he did, Whizzer made his way over, an uncharacteristically soft smile resting on his lips. 

 

“You know, I’d give you a haircut,” Whizzer offered, swinging around his racket. “If you want it, Marv.” The nickname shot an unfamiliar feeling throughout Marvin’s core, tinting his already tired red cheeks pink. He wiped at the sweat on his forehead. 

 

“Thanks. I’m pretty sure my mom was ready to kill me when I came home last summer,” He sighed, twirling around his racket absentmindedly. “You’re not the perfect guy, but you come pretty damn close,” Marvin blurted out, Whizzer’s eyes flashing with overwhelming affection for a moment, his thin, tan fingers reaching out to play with the loose curls flowing across Marvin’s forehead. 

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Whizzer breathed out, attempting to sound angry, though the overwhelming joy that came over him due to the compliment drowned it out. Marvin grinned goofily at him, teeth crooked and lips tilted. Whizzer thought he looked absolutely stunning. It wouldn’t be the last time. 

 

**WISENBACHFELD APARTMENT**

 

Mendel was just about to fall asleep on the couch, knocked out due to the twenty-four hours of work he had gone through due to about three different emergency patients and too much coffee when Cordelia DuBois furiously stormed through the apartment door. He had forgotten she had been given a key to the apartment during he and Trina’s wedding- the entire family had, including a small Jason, who still wore it on a necklace around his neck. He leapt up at the slamming sound, blinking in shock as the lesbian drifted around into his eyesight and began to dig through his kitchen cabinets. 

 

“What the hell? What are you doing in my apartment, Delia?” Mendel murmured, rubbing at one eye with one hand, the other scratching his rather unruly beard. Trina preferred him to have a smaller one, but she understood that his long hours caused him to grow weird half-beards. Hopefully he’d have time to shave before she arrived home, since he wanted to surprise her. She deserved it.

 

“You,” Cordelia steamed, and stormed over to him, before grabbing at his collar. Mendel squeaked as Cordelia yanked him from the couch, standing him up in a full position. He noticed that she was about five inches taller than him. “Lousy, rotten, no-good doctor without a degree snake. I know your secrets. I know that you lied about your degree.” She bit her bottom lip, contemplating for a moment, before reaching up with a finger to jab it towards his face menacingly. 

 

“Cordelia, what are you on about?” Mendel blubbered, fixing his collar that she had tugged on. Cordelia stepped back slightly, curly blond hair bouncing around, as crazy as she appeared to be. It resembled multiple bird nests glued together. He winced for her sake, then remembered he probably looked just as bad. 

“Oh, so you’re playin’ dumb now, huh? Well, two can play that game,” Cordelia folded her arms across her chest, sticking it out as she pouted in his direction. Mendel felt extremely confused as he attempted to resemble her pose. After a moment of awkward silence, Cordelia dropped her arms, and faked a lunge towards him. 

 

“Just tell me the truth, alright? You lied about your degree, didn’t you?” Cordelia sneered. “You’re not a real doctor.” Mendel furrowed his eyebrows towards her, before letting out a small chuckle. Her face constricted into offended anger. 

 

“Are you laughing at me?” Her voice broke off into a whine, and he waved her off, still giggling. Her eyes flashed furiously. 

 

“Sorry, Delia, it’s just,” He pressed a hand to his mouth to stop the laughter from erupting. “I’m not a doctor, Delia. I’m a nurse. That’s why I don’t have a medical degree.” In the split second after his confession, the woman stood before him contorted her face into a mix of emotions, all landing eventually on exhaustion and shock. 

 

“You are what?” Her voice cracked halfway through, as tears began to fall from her eyes. Mendel instantly stopped laughing, as he was not an insensitive person. “I put so many goddamn hours into this case, and you’re a fucking nurse? How did no one tell me?” She pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes in order to stop the crying. He stepped closer to her, and took hold of one of her elbows softly.

 

“None of you guys really ask about me or how I’m doing,” He admitted. “That’s probably why.” He attempted a smile, but she just continued to shake in the center of his kitchen, dabbing at her tears with her manicured nails.

 

“I’m such an awful lawyer,” Cordelia mumbled into her hands, shaking her elbow out of her grip so she could bend down slightly, covering her entire face with both hands. “I shouldn’t have gotten into this profession. This is my first real case, and I’m just awful at it. I wish I had stayed in culinary school.” 

 

“Sweetheart, I understand it’s not what you really wanted to do, but this is not the time and place to be contemplating your life decisions,” Mendel told her softly, rubbing her shoulder. “I think you have to go and talk to Charlotte. Maybe apologize for ignoring her for so long? Both of you are struggling with your own issues, I know, but struggling together is better than doing it alone.” Cordelia looked down towards him, and patted his hand that was resting on her shoulder.

 

“You could have been a physiatrist in another life, Mendel,” She told him, voice hoarse and hurting. Mendel smiled, and shrugged bashfully. 

 

“In another life, truly,” He told her. “And you could have been a caterer.” She wiped at her cheeks, eyes puffy and red from the tears.

 

“I would like that,” Cordelia admitted, and they stood there for a moment more, before Mendel let go of her shoulder, and Cordelia remembered to rush back to her apartment to find Charlotte. She burst from the door, leaving Mendel to his nap. But first he trudged off towards the bathroom to shave off the unmatched parts of his beard.

 

**DUBOIS APARTMENT**

 

Cordelia ran through the door to see Charlotte stood at their stove, whipping up something for a late lunch. She had gotten home from work early. At the sound of her wife, she lifted her head up in surprise. Cordelia stood in the doorway, panting heavily, and realized she had no fucking clue what to say to her. 

 

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” Charlotte confessed with a sad smile, as if she had been waiting patiently for another night alone. Cordelia sucked in a breath, and stepped closer to her wife. Charlotte squeaked, and let go of the pan on the stove.

 

“I’m sorry,” Cordelia apologized, breathily and quiet. “I was a dick to you. I love you, Charlotte. I know I’ve made you doubt that.” Charlotte blinked.

 

“What-How’d you?” Charlotte cut herself off, a small grin spreading across her face. “You’re the most amazing, most beautiful person I’ve ever met. I love you so much.” Cordelia returned the grin, and the two women collided in a rather sloppy kiss, Charlotte beginning to cry out of utter joy due to the fact that her wife had finally gotten her head out of her ass. Cordelia wrapped her arms around the other’s waist, and pulled her tight to her chest, Charlotte leaning up on the tips of her toes to cast her arms around Cordelia’s neck. They stayed like that for an amount of time neither knew, basking in one another, something they hadn’t gotten to do for a while. Charlotte pulled back after what felt like a century or so, and rested her forehead against Cordelia’s. Their skin contrasted, and she was sure she could feel Cordelia’s slick sweat against her temple. Somehow, that was hot. Charlotte pushed it to the back of her mind. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Cordelia apologize. “I’m an idiot. I put work before you like I always do. I don’t appreciate you enough.” Charlotte rubbed her arms comfortingly, their foreheads still pressed together, both lesbians basking in the glow of one another.

 

“We all have our flaws, Delia,” Charlotte murmured, pushing their lips together, though not kissing her. Just waiting. Waiting. “It’s only when we accept them, and promise to work on them that we are whole. You are accepting this. You are promising, and I swear to God, Delia, I will do everything in my power to help you.” Cordelia began to cry then. 

 

“I love you. I love you so fucking much,” She whimpered, and they kissed once more. Cordelia tugged on the back of Charlotte’s shirt, grasping at the fabric, the warm and loving aura wafting off of her. Charlotte snared her fingers into Cordelia’s messy curls, and yanked her impossibly closer.

 

**TENNIS COURT (PRESENT DAY)**

 

The ball hit the racket, and the game began. Whizzer and Marvin had, while they didn’t play tennis as much as they had before Jason, entered a tennis tournament - and were about to win. Of course, they were versing each other for the last round. They were always equally matched. Always. Marvin only allowed Whizzer to win, or was too tired to beat him. At least, he told himself that. Now, though, now Whizzer was shining, a grin on his face as he continued to mercilessly catch and beat the ball towards him, rocketing through the sky. Marvin swallowed roughly as he stumbled around, losing energy, shocked by the beauty of his husband in action, the wonderful expression on his face as he pummeled Marvin into the ground. It stunned him. 

 

His heart felt heavy as he remembered the moments in which he hadn’t appreciated Whizzer as much, he hadn’t understood how much Whizzer should mean to him. He couldn’t start crying on the tennis court, though, so he continued to play. Jason and Trina were watching in the stands. He realized the tournament was dragging on and on. Jason had a baseball game soon. He wouldn’t dare check his watch, though. Trina could take him, when the time came.  _ Trina.  _

 

_ Mendel had stepped through the hospital doors solemnly, and instantly the family was confused. Marvin knew that he was supposed to be happy. Having a child, it was the most wonderful moment of your entire life. Besides getting married. He seemed to be the only one not understanding what was going on, though, because as he glanced around, Cordelia was in tears, and Charlotte had an arm around her, head bent. Whizzer was shaking as he clutched Jason to his chest, crying freely, and Mendel stepped closer to the small group in the waiting room. _

 

_ “It was a miscarriage,” He announced in a croak. “The baby has no heartbeat.” Marvin’s heart practically stopped as well when the sentence reached his ears, when he realized what had happened. He was frozen in his seat then, unable to comfort both his best friends, or his husband, or his child as they mourned the loss of the small fetus all had been cooing over for the past eight months or so.  _

 

_ “Can-Can we see her?” Charlotte questioned timidly, and Mendel scrubbed at his eyes, a newfound tiredness sinking into his shoulders. Marvin didn’t know it then, but that tiredness would stay. He sighed, and thought for a moment, before beckoning the two lesbians to follow him into the hospital room. Marvin and Whizzer perched themselves on the uncomfortable hospital chairs for a moment longer, seven-year-old Jason whimpering into his shoulder. Marvin reached over timidly, and Whizzer handed Jason over to him. Instantly, Jason’s small, black-and-white striped sweater covered arms flung themselves around his neck, curling into his father’s chest. Marvin stood, holding tightly to his son with one arm, and outstretched a hand for Whizzer to take. His husband did so shakily, and the two followed their family into the hospital room. Trina was staring blankly at her hands, tear streaks down her cheeks. Mendel was rubbing her back, continuing to cry as Cordelia whispered words on encouragement beside one of her best friends. _

 

_ “They told us we can’t have another one,” Trina admitted, before breaking down. Cordelia pulled her tight into her chest, Mendel dropping his head into his arms. Marvin’s face went gaunt in horror, Whizzer’s hand squeezing his as the two struggled to stand in their shock. After a moment, Trina blinked her eyes open through her tears. Marvin let go of Whizzer’s hand for a second, and slowly stepped towards the hospital bed. Cordelia moved backwards as Marvin took her place, and Trina stared up at the man beside her. Silently, he placed Jason into her arms, who smiled at his mother lovingly. Trina let out a small, sad laugh, and hugged Jason to her chest, the hug of a child lighting up her face just slightly despite the awfulness of that morning. Marvin crept back towards Whizzer, as Mendel pet Jason’s curls, and Trina spoke to him in hushed murmurs. Whizzer glanced back towards his husband, the love in his look so resident and promising on this face Marvin had to swallow back the guilt of why he had placed Jason in Trina’s arm in order to stop quivering so much. He would speak to Whizzer about it later.  _

 

The crack of the ball against net rang through the air, and Whizzer leapt up into the sky, overwhelmed with happiness as he won the tournament. The stands around the tennis court went wild, Marvin standing there, panting, eyes blown wide at the sudden memory that had erupted during the middle of the game. A medal was draped across Whizzer’s neck, the gold reflecting the sunlight, and somehow, the tenseness that had stricken Marvin’s shoulders left him. He was happy for his husband, for once in his life. He was not the jealous beast he was usually whenever Whizzer won. The other deserved this. He was shaken from his thoughts by the feeling of Whizzer’s sweaty lips on his, pressing their faces together happily. Marvin respond rather distantly, the ringing in his ears growing louder, the pain weighing down on him heightening at the feeling of the adoration his husband had for him radiating off of the man attached to his lips. Whizzer tugged him off the court, and they met up with Trina and Jason, who were stood by the stands. Jason looked upset, for some strange reason. Marvin could barely comprehend anything going on. 

 

“Guys, I’m gonna miss my baseball game!” Jason shouted as soon as they came near. “And it’s all your fault!” Whizzer’s eyebrows raised in surprise, as he stepped towards his son.

 

“Jason, what are you talking about? We’re just gonna drive you there now,” Whizzer checked his watch, making sure they still had time to get there. Jason was fuming at his two fathers, though, as a kid his age usually would. 

 

“You care about tennis more than me!” Jason protested, Whizzer holding back a snort at the angry child. Marvin took his hand. “You went overtime, and now I’m late!”

 

“I could drive Jason to his baseball game,” Trina suggested. “So you guys can stay here and collect your winnings. It’s really alright with me.” She pulled Jason towards her legs. Whizzer smiled at her thankfully, but suddenly, Marvin was suspicious of an alternative motive. 

 

“No, we can take him,” Marvin told her sternly, Trina frowning at him. He glanced over at his husband for support to see that he was mirroring their surrogate’s expression.

 

“Trina, of course you can drive him to his baseball game, that’s completely fine,” Whizzer assured her, grin slipping back onto his face. “We’ll be there in about ten minutes. I just want to talk to a few people.” Trina smiled at him, shot a scowl towards Marvin, and then directed Jason towards her car. Marvin folded his arms, and Whizzer rolled his eyes playfully at his husband.

 

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He joked, moving away towards a few of his friends who were waiting to congratulate him. Marvin didn’t move along with him though, instead waiting for when Whizzer’s watchful gaze was on someone else. He slunk after Trina and his son, who were stood outside her car in discussion.

 

“J, sweetheart, I’ve been thinking about a few things,” Trina admitted, bending down slightly to meet Jason eye-to-eye. “Would you prefer if I took care of you full-time?” Jason pouted towards her. 

 

“Well, I guess tennis would never be put above me if I was,” Jason fiddled with the end of his jersey. “Let me think about it, okay?” Trina patted his head, before standing up and wringing the bracelet on the end of her wrist anxiously. Jason trotted into the backseat, and Trina shut the door for him, glancing back towards the tennis court. Marvin turned his head towards the tree beside him instantly, heart pounding. After what felt like a century, Trina’s car started up just ahead of him, and they pulled out of the parking lot to go to Jason’s baseball game. He watched them leave, pressing a hand to his mouth. Trina was a good mother. She was not trying to undermine Marvin and Whizzer just because she didn’t like them, at least, it didn’t seem like that. At least, she wasn’t trying to undermine Whizzer. Jason was her only chance at having a child, though, and sometimes when the stakes are that high, people do crazy things. Marvin bent over against the tree, and threw up in the bushes. 

**THE GERSHWIN CAR**

 

Marvin and Whizzer hopped into their car the first chance they got in order to get to Jason’s baseball game as quickly as possible, rushing down the highway on the New Jersey transit. Whizzer laughed his signature laugh as they zoomed down, Marvin gripping the side of the door while they bumped along. 

 

“Why are we hurrying so much, anyway? Jason doesn’t really care if we get there or not, as long as we’re there in the end. The first inning hasn’t even ended yet,” Whizzer checked the clock on the dashboard. 

 

“I overheard Trina saying something to Jason, and I want to talk to the both about it,” Marvin told his husband rather distantly, the music in the background seemingly turning down as Whizzer shot his partner a confused expression. 

 

“What does that mean? What did you hear?” Whizzer questioned, furrowing his eyebrows in the rear-view mirror. Marvin didn’t answer, choosing to lean against the side window, hand pressed against his mouth. “Marvin, what did Trina say to Jason?”

 

“She wants full custody over him,” Marvin blurted, Whizzer’s eyes widening noticeably. “I’m guessing she found a loophole in the contract between us and she doesn’t think we’re good enough fathers for Jason. Well, she doesn’t think I am. She likes you.” 

 

“Why doesn’t she like you?” Whizzer’s voice began to shake in slight fear as they slowed down on the turnpike, hands shaking around the steering wheel. “I feel like this is just some sick joke you’re pulling over me.”

 

“I’m not pulling anything over you!” Marvin defended himself, tone growing more and more annoyed. “And she doesn’t like me because we’ve got history together. It was bitter and messy and she’s still upset about it.” Whizzer, suddenly, yanked them over to a pull out on the road, tires screaming against the pavement. Marvin yelped in shock as his husband pulled them into a parked spot, before whipping his head towards him.

 

“Tell me, Marvin, what history are you talking about?” Whizzer asked dangerously, voice deadpan and level, the shakiness from before disappearing. 

 

“I once dated Trina, it doesn’t matter that much,” Marvin waved his husband off, Whizzer slamming a hand down onto the dashboard. Marvin jumped in his seat, and both men were reminded of past times before Jason, back in 2001, when the world was black & white. Whizzer curled his hand into a fist, nails digging into his skin, and retracted his hand from the proximity of the dashboard in front of him. 

 

“I dated her for about three years. I was dating her while we were dating. Then I broke her heart, and left her alone to fend for herself. I really hurt her Whiz, and then she had our child, because she’s nice like that. And then she couldn’t have a child after that with Mendel, so she just relies on Jason, even if us in her life and the fact that Jason will never be completely her child breaks her heart over and over again. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner-” 

 

Whizzer’s hands tightened around the steering wheel he was clutching in his hands, leveling Marvin’s glance with his slowly. They sat in silence for another moment, his husband warily awaiting the explosion about to come from Whizzer.

 

“And you didn’t think to tell me about this, I don’t know, before we started dating? Before we got married? Before you suggested Trina as our surrogate?” Whizzer’s voice was shaky, and broken, the opposite of the fiery breath Marvin had been expecting. Somehow, the defeated tone caused the shorter’s heart to break even more. 

 

“I-I don’t even know what to say, or to tell you,” Whizzer let out a nervous laugh, as he reached up with one hand to push back his sweaty hair off his forehead. “I just don’t understand. I don’t understand.” 

 

“Whiz, seriously, I was going to tell you sooner, or in a different place, but I…” He drifted off, realizing with widened eyes he has no excuse. His husband hung his head, shadows covering the contorted expression on his face.

 

“Why did you cheat on me with her? When you’re gay? Why did you...why did you stay with her?” Whizzer choked out, lifting his head to the sky as he attempted to stop the tears that were dangerously close to flowing. “When I met you that day on the tennis court, I immediately went back to my dorm and cut off any loose romantic or sexual relationships I had with anyone, even someone back in Vegas. I just knew you were the one Marvin, and yet, because of your fragile masculinity, you couldn’t do the same for me.”

 

“We aren’t the same, Whizzer,” Marvin told him coldly, Whizzer glancing back towards him in shock at the usage of his full name. “We are not the same person, no matter how much you try to convince yourself that...that we accept ourselves in the same way, that we just fell together like Jack and Rose or-or Romeo and Juliet. I’m not you, Whizzer. I can’t be you.” Marvin wiped at a tear dripping down his cheek, Whizzer staring at him. 

 

“No matter how much you hate yourself, or you hate the fact that you’re in love with me, and that you have a child with me, that doesn’t give you an excuse to hurt three extra people other than yourself,” Whizzer hiccuped, crumbling down in front of his husband. “No, not just three. You’ve hurt everyone close to you because of this.”

 

“When Charlotte told me that she thought Cordelia was pulling away, I thought to myself, ‘I think Marv’s pulling away too,’ but I didn’t say that because I wanted to help her and only her in that moment. Now I know the reason why you’ve been pulling away. You’ve been carrying around so much guilt for more than ten years.” Marvin let out a sigh, turning and glancing out the passenger window beside himself. Whizzer leaned forwards in the driver’s seat, the cars beside them disappearing as they sat on the pullout to the side of the highway, a silence fluttering through the car. 

 

“Do you still love her?” Whizzer’s muffled voice came from behind his hands, his head cowering beside the steering wheel. Marvin shook his head, not removing his gaze from the window beside him.

 

“No,” Marvin told him. “I don’t think I ever loved her. I just really wanted to love her. She loved me, though. Or, she loved the idea of me.” Whizzer let out a dry chuckle, humorless and depressing, his shoulders shaking as his face was once more illuminated in the noonday sunlight, sparkling against the tears on his cheeks. 

 

“Everyone loves the idea of you, Marvin,” Whizzer told him seriously, taking in a deep breath before letting out and continuing. “I’m just the fool who fell in love with the real you.” Marvin stared at his quivering hands, watching distantly as the tears fell onto his tan skin. Somehow, he felt detached from his body, his ghost floating beside him, eyeing as the situation crumbled, as the men fell apart beside one another. 

 

“Is this what’s gonna break us?” Marvin sputtered timidly, eyes trailing over Whizzer’s body. His hand was over his mouth completely, small sobs breaking out behind the splayed out fingers. His shoulders were shaking, his eyes wide and cracked, staring out into the highway as the tears streamed down his face. Somehow, he was still distantly beautiful. “Are we done? On the way to our son’s baseball game, of all things?” 

 

“I dunno,” Whizzer whispered. “I don’t think I’m ready to let go of you yet.” He dropped his hand onto his shorts, and wiped the splattered tears onto it. Marvin noticed the red sweatband clinging to his arm, as it had the first day they met, as it had every day since that one November afternoon in 2001. Marvin’s wrist was captured within a white one, Whizzer’s old one. Slowly, Marvin crept his hand over to the transmission. After a moment of uneasy silence, Whizzer’s hand covered his, and their fingers curled together tightly. Whizzer sat back in his chair, and lightly pulled them back onto the highway, now going at a reasonable pace. Marvin rubbed a finger against Whizzer’s wedding ring, and for a moment, he could have sworn he saw the other man smile. 

 

**BASEBALL FIELD**

 

They arrived at the baseball field later than they wanted to have, the game taking a small break, as one of the children had injured themselves. Whizzer and Marvin ran up towards the stands, where Trina was waiting at the bottom, watching her son swing the bat around aimlessly with a smile on her face. Once she heard their footsteps, she stood and smiled at them timidly. 

 

“Hey guys! Traffic wasn’t too bad, right?” Cordelia questioned, her arm around Charlotte as they leaned into one another. Mendel was right beside where Trina had been sitting, smiling at the two men by the side of the stands.

 

“Is it true, Trina?” Whizzer questioned, ignoring Cordelia completely. Trina’s smile faltered at the serious edge to his voice. 

 

“Is what true, Whiz?” She narrowed her eyes in confusion, and stepped closer. Whizzer took a deep breath to calm himself down slightly. 

 

“Is it true that you want to have full custody over Jason? That you dated Marvin while we were dating? That he broke your heart? Because honestly, I have no fucking clue what to believe right now, and this pile of shit is not what I had expected to deal with today,” He rushed out, voice shaking by the end. Trina seemed stunned, as did the rest of the family. 

 

“I’m doing what I think is right for Jason,” She argued, voice barely a whisper. Whizzer threw his arms up into the air, and Marvin, while he had seen him angry about thirty minutes before, had never seen him this furious. 

 

“What you think is right for Jason? What you think is right for Jason?” He stepped forwards, and jabbed his finger towards her chest. “You do not get to decide what is right for Jason. I do! Marvin does! We are his legal parents! We kept you around because we liked you, and we thought Jason should have strong female figures in his life. You could have been totally removed from his life all together at any moment. I don’t give a shit about what you think is right for Jason! You have no real legal custody for him at all! You’re just upset because you can’t have children, so you’ve decided to steal ours from us! Fuck off, Trina. You have no fucking right.” She gasped, blinking. Whizzer took a deep breath, and stepped backwards. Just then, Jason came running from off the field, having noticed his two dads. Whizzer turned, and bent over slightly, so that Jason could barrel into his arms despite his long, tangly legs. 

 

He laughed excitedly, Whizzer’s sudden anger from before melting away at his son. Marvin raced up towards Jason as well, his husband setting down the kid. Jason hugged his other father in greeting, Trina forgotten. 

 

“I’m so happy you guys got here!” Jason cheered, grabbing at Whizzer’s pant leg. “I missed you guys. I’m sorry I got so angry earlier.” Whizzer pressed down his curls, and realized that Jason's head was already reaching his chest. A tear sparked at the edge of his eye, the love for his son almost bursting out of his skin.

 

“It’s alright, Jason,” Marvin smiled, and stumbled back as Jason clutched him tightly. The trio stood together, huddled on that New Jersey field, since they were at any away game, and Whizzer understood that everything would be alright. He stepped backwards to survey the baseball field, and the scoreboard, ready to ingest himself into the game, before leading his husband and son home for ice cream. Marvin smiled lovingly at him. Whizzer returned it shakily. The moment seemed to be frozen in time, before-

 

_ There was a gunshot.  _

 

Whizzer’s face went slack as he fell to his knees, skin turning pale as his eyes rolled back up to stare at the bullet that had entered through the back of his head, now lodged in his skull. Falling onto the ground, he convulsed in pain for a few short, awful seconds before dying completely. There was a pause. The entire crowd erupted into shrieks of terror, Cordelia wailing as Charlotte sat there, frozen. Mendel stared at his wife, terror in his eyes, as Trina shakily dropped the gun onto the ground, almost surprised that she had done that. Lifting up her hands, she swallowed and her knees gave out, landing onto the cold dirt ground. Jason shook in Marvin’s arms, but his father paid no attention, face turning green as he stared at the dead body of his husband.

 

“I didn’t-I didn’t mean to,” Trina protested, Mendel on the phone with the police in the background. Reaching down, Marvin nudged Whizzer’s side, turning him over. The medal still shown against the sun dangerously. Bending over, Jason removed the medal from around Whizzer’s chilled neck, and handed it to his father. Marvin touched it lightly, though he did not remove it from his son’s hand. There they stood, in the midst of the chaos, and waited for the world to stop spinning as quickly as it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah the ending i know seems very strange and unexpected but from what my friend told me that's how it's supposed to be (on either monday or sunday i'll post what he told me, word-for-word, just so you can see how accurate this story turned out being)


	3. Falsettos Summary (What Started It All)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My friend, Zach, told me this, word for word, and I wrote it. Unchanged, unaltered. Warning - no punctuation ahead

"marvin is playing tennis and meets a guy named whizzer at tennis and they get married and have a son named jason there's a lawyer named cordelia and she wants to make a law against mendel because he is a doctor who didn't actually go to medical school in new york city charlotte, the doctor, she's also a psychologist (i remember hearing the word psychologist when we were talking about this) she tries to diagnose whizzer because he's in love with cordelia so marvin and whizzer play tennis in the championship and they go against each other and jason comes and he's really sad because marvin and whizzer didn't go to his baseball practice so trina also goes to the tennis match and picks up jason and takes him to the baseball game and thinks that she's a way better parent and marvin and whizzer both rush to jason's baseball game to see who the real father is and who the real mother is marvin and whizzer get their first happily ever after trina comes to the baseball game and she gets so mad that she shoots whizzer so he dies and then jason says 'trina, you're not gonna be my mother since you shot whizzer'"


End file.
